


Your Beauty Never Scared Me

by themomentoflettinggo



Category: GHOST - Fandom, Ghost Band, Lovestory - Fandom, cardinal - Fandom, cardinalcopia - Fandom, copia - Fandom, swedenband
Genre: F/M, Ghouls, ghost band - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2020-12-14 01:53:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 19,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21007769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themomentoflettinggo/pseuds/themomentoflettinggo
Summary: Prima Vesta Egnatius is chosen to be the bride of Emeritus lll. Copia is welcomed to the church as the soon to be Cardinal. But as Prima has no feelings for her betrothed and his work keeping him away, she and Copia begin to kindle a forbidden relationship.





	1. Chapter One

Within the darkness of the stone room, right before the fireplace and across from the aged radius windows lined with heavy maroon drapes, stand two slim figures. Silhouetted by the full moon that hangs in the cloudless evening sky, they caress each other in a delicate embrace. Their shadows dance against the wall with the flickers of the flames in the wood fireplace. A slender woman; dressed in a white circle skirt gown embroidered with diamonds and threaded to perfection; with hair that curls in blonde bells as they rest atop her pointed shoulders and spill down to her hips. She rests the side of her head on the shoulder of the man who holds her. Her eyes are shut and her visage is stricken with a sadness. One of the mans gloved hands gently hold the woman’s lower back while his other arm wraps around her waist with his second gloved hand resting between the her round hips. Her naked hands are both wrapped around his narrow figure. Her pink fingertips sweetly twist the bottom strands of his light brown hair. His eyes are open but looking nowhere. All his body knows is her in his arms and the pounding of her guileless heart. The air in the room is cold despite the boisterous fire. Dark corners of the room seem to giggle and smile as the unreal apparitions of the church are watching. It’s as if the whole structure of the unholy church’s living quarters know their pain and greet it with irregular delight. 

“My love,” he finally whispers gently in her ear, “something tells me that now is the time for you to go. Before the wake of morning.” Her body hesitates to move but still relaxes from their hold. She leaves her head against his in a position that allows their noses to touch but their lips to remain apart. Close enough to feel the breath of one another for a final moment. The man takes her cold hands in his and squeezes. Their is a light rumble from somewhere deep within the ground. The man, dressed in totally coal colored cassock garb, who’s face is pale even in the fires orange light, looks her in the iris of her eyes that are glossed in a pool of hot tears. There’s a wrench in his chest as she blinks softly and a heavy tear strolls over the blush of her pink cheeks. With a light swipe of his covered thumb the tear is cleared away but it’s moist trail lines her face still. The woman opens her mouth to speak but can’t. She attempts to smile but immediately the effort crumbles and her face is crinkled in heartache. She buries her face in the crook of his neck. Her stomach feels as though it is twined in thorns and her throat goes stiff as if stones rest inside. 

“For you, I will long forever,” he removes the glove of his left hand and reaches down his collar, “..my darling Prima.” A gold claddagh pendant that holds a single diamond rests in the palm of his hand. The woman, Prima, smiles sorrowfully and raises her left hand-revealing an ring decorated in an identical diamond pendant. He kisses the shining stone and holds the back of her hand to his cheek. From behind the heavy mahogany door there is a animal like scream. It echoes through the room as thunder cracks outside the window. The room gets louder as thick drops pang against the panes of glass. The man quickly buries the pendant beneath the collar of his cassock. Prima feels fear grow lush in her as the shouting becomes louder. 

“We must not wait any further-” Firmly, he takes her hand and takes her to the fireplace and clicks the side of the mantle. Thus revealing a secret staircase leading downward into darkness. A pane suddenly shatters and in the light Prima sees that blood is falling from the sky. Frightened she swiftly wraps around him in a whimper. Reluctantly he does not hold her nearly long as he wishes to and peels away. He kisses her a single time on the lips.

“Go now, Prima.” Prima looks into both of his dark eyes as briefly as she can before having to turn her back to him and step down the cracking staircase. Hurriedly to take a few steps down but stops dead and turns and looks to him-he stands watching her. The room behind him is slowly falling apart-stone falls from the walls, gold framed portraits tumble to the floor and the drapes flow as vicious rags in the wind as it intrudes through broken glass.

“Copia-” Suddenly there is a crash and Prima watches in horror as Copia is attacked by a tall monster of a man. Emeritus lll. His face painted like that of a skull and hands that thrash out like claws. Prima runs as the entrance of the staircase caves in. The floor is damp and the long murky corridor reeks of sour mold and rot. Her ruby heels click as she stumbles through pools of cold grey water and forges through vines that hang from the low ceiling. She hears demonic laughter expelling from all around her. Evil cackling that conjures unease in her and an angry dizziness. Overwhelmed and frightened she crumples harshly to her knees and buries herself as close to the floor with her hands practically clawing over her head-trying to quiet the chaotic noise. She finally bellows a murderous and agonizing scream so loud that it hurts. And the louder her voice echoes, the quieter the rumbles become and the cackling seems to just cease. She shudders as she aches inside her heart. Her once pure white dress is splattered in crimson drops of blood and grey stains of infested water. Her knees are skinned and bloodied. The corridor carries her cries and echo loudly in the quiet tunnel. As she pulls herself up and brushes off her hands and dirt ridden face, there is a light squeaking from below her. With a yelp and a jump she looks and sees rats squirming down near her feet-brown, ugly rats that look to be infected and malicious. Prima watches as the rats writhe on the floor and continue past her. She follows the rats quietly. Her mind is bombarded by fear...imagining the things that Emeritus lll could do to afflict her lover. 

After some time she is finally able to see a light in front of her. Daylight spills in through the exit of the tunnel. Prima runs to it weakly, her blistered feet peeling as she does. The jade grass is cool and soft as she lets her body topple down. The tunnel seemed unending-like an awful nightmare. But as she lay in the grass she feels less of the pain in her body and more of her own tiredness she hadn’t realized she had. Fresh spring air flooded her lungs as she breathed heavy breaths in and out. Rolling onto her back she looks up at the sky and watches as the clouds move in slow motion. Like cotton gliding through the vast blueness of the sky. She thinks of Copia. She wants to close her eyes but each time she does-even just a blink-all she can see is him. But then she closes her eyes again and sees Emeritus instead. His eyes beaming bright red with anger. Suddenly she sits up and throws up in the grass beside her. That’s when she notices that the tunnel entrance is gone. There is nothing in front of her anymore. Before her is a clearing of overgrown grass and three swooping willow trees. Nothing but a single bird that lands in the center of the gold lit clearing. A single cardinal.

Three Months Earlier

“Your dark excellency, May I introduce you to Prima Egnatius. She is the daughter of the old high priest, Father Jude Egnatius. She has been with the church since she was born. Now a sister in our convent, she will be attending to you and assisting you with your work. As well as the two of you getting better familiarized with your new, permanent, place of residence. ” The trio stand in the parlor of the royal residence hall where all higher members of the unholy church reside i.e. popes, bishops, cardinals, and priests stay. White marble floors trail to the split staircase steps with black iron rails that curl and wrap in a floral like design. At the top of the stairs, on the landing, a statue of Emeritus l stands nearly twelve feet high. A plethora of vivid colors cast light throughout the room as it spills in through the chancel windows. Between the concrete support beams are old Latin murals painted centuries ago. Suspended from the center of the high ceiling is a crystal chandelier. The man before Prima stands at an average height but a head shorter than Emeritus. His pale skin accentuates against the blackness of his cassock. Black makeup has been carefully smudged around both of his eyes and upper lip. When he meets eyes with Prima he is immediately taken aback by her peculiar beauty. Her yellow hair is pulled back in a French twist but wavy blonde strands hang from her hairline. Copia notices her eyes are bright and glimmer in a way he hasn’t seen in any other woman of the convent-much like the rosiness of the apples of her cheeks and the tip of her delicate nose. To him she looks alive and full of warmth. Copia pauses for more than a few moments as he takes in her visage. Prima smiles to him but feels there is something about him that’s peculiar as well. He has hazel-green eyes that appear a dark shade of grey under the shadow of his black biretta. His hands are gloved in leather and embroidered with thick thread to create a red grucific on the backs of both the gloves-identical to the one embroidered over his left breast. She sees a strange but still lovely sort of handsome when she looks at him. Her eyes try to meet his again but he does not look her way. Emeritus shifts slightly as he clears his throat towards Prima-clearly taking notice of the quiet but quite obvious stillness between them. 

“Pleased to meet you, your dark excellency.” Prima‘s pink lips curve into a tender smile and she curtsies lightly to Copia. She bows her head to the soon-to-be Cardinal before her. As she does, Copia looks to the angelic woman once more. She wears a pearl white gown that ends just above the ground. It is a boatneck dress with white long sleeves embroidered with white studded charms. Near her collar is a small gold grucifix pin.The contrast as she stands beside the dark Emeritus is like night and day. Copia nods his head in her direction and then towards Emeritus but still does not look at Prima directly. His hands clasp behind his back as he listens intently to Papa Emeritus lll. Emeritus is betrothed to Prima. He confided in her father that he intended to marry as a means to provide another heir to the Emeritus bloodline. Being that she is a mere twenty two, Prima initially refused the request. But her father insisted that she agree to matrimony-that it was her opportunity to prove her willingness to serve the unholy church. So she accepted. Their wedding is to be held in three months time in the ancient cathedral where Copia was to be sworn in as Cardinal just days after the wedding of Papa Emeritus lll and Prima Vesta Egnatius. Prima is hesitant facing the idea of becoming more familiar with Emeritus. The way he broods in his private library each night and watches her eerily with a strange curiosity sends awful chills down her spine. In those moments it feels as though he’ll burst at any second. 

“Do excuse me,” Emeritus grumbles, “I’ll leave the both of you. As I have pressing matters I must attend to.” Emeritus’ hand reaches out and takes gentle hold on Prima’s as he places an obliged kiss on her hand. Copia bows briefly, followed by Prima’s curtsy. Emeritus exits through the front dark wooden doors followed promptly by two ghouls. 

“Well,” Prima turns to face Copia, “I’m not quite certain why I am to orient you. I, myself have only been living in the grounds for the past three days. There’s really only one place I could show you.” Copia says nothing to her. They stand there in the quite for a while before she shrugs her shoulders.

“Perhaps I should request a ghoul to escort us both around?” Copia stutters briefly and clears his throat.

“Not necessary, Miss Egnatius. We will see our way about more on our way there.” Copia follows Prima as she leads him up the staircase and down a long, shaded corridor. As they go down the winding hall, they pass aged portraits of hierarchy member’s of the church and several doors and staircases. They pass a kitchen and the formal dining hall, where sisters of the convent set up the table for dinner. Eventually the pair reach the end of a hallway where there is a bay window and a door to the left. Prima smiles to Copia as she opens the door to reveal another staircase.

“Miss Prima, this ample walking is nearly comical.” He sighs as they start walking up the staircase. She simply smiles over her shoulder at him.

“You can call me Prim.” Copia smiles when she turns away from him again. They reach the top of the steps where there is a set of French doors. Prima motions for Copia to open the doors. He reaches for the handle and pulls open the door. 

“A balcony?”

“Don’t be absurd, Copia. I didn’t lead you all the way up here to take in a silly balcony.” Much to Copia’s surprise, she takes his left hand in hers. Her hand in his gives him a warm feeling within his chest. Prima resonates a similar feeling when he reinforces his grip on her hand. She very nearly pulls him out onto the balcony and smiles satisfied. The grand balcony overlooks the entire courtyard of the church. Where there is a stone fountain and red rose bushes in every direction. Copia smiles at her reaction to the setting evening sky. She has a gleam in her eyes that is almost like that of a child. Prima leans on the balcony edge and gazes out at the skyline that fades from vibrant pthalo blue to burnt yellow. The sunlight glows on her skin-she is radiant in the shine of the sky. In the same way Prima looks to the sky, Copia looks at her. He is amazed at her boisterous disposition despite the life she was born into and the one she is destined to lead. His heart beckons for him to say something to her. He hesitates but as he prepares to speak, Prima grows blue and she looks down at the her hand that is decorated with a silver engagement band.

“I have a feeling,” Prima frowns longingly, “this silly balcony is the closest thing to bliss I will ever have.” Her fist curls into a fist and she looks away form her ring. 

“How do you mean.....Prim? You’re to be married to the most highly praised unholy Pope of the church. One would be considered delusional not to celebrate such a thing.” Deep in Copia he already understands the reason behind her stifled celebration. 

“Yes. But I feel so hungry for the world. I yearn to discover what goes beyond the church. I’ve only been to one other place-besides here now. When I was a girl my mother took me from our church in London to see Paris-have you ever been?”

“Yes. But many years ago, I’m afraid.” 

“Well, it is my fondest memory of my life thus far. The second I tasted even just a little bit of the world....I knew I wanted to see it all. Maybe out there I would really fall in love...” she has a sad cloud about her now....but she quickly smiles weakly at Copia, “in another life, I suppose.” Prima steps closer to Copia-who shifts slightly as she is a mere foot away from him. She looks down at the ground then back up to him. 

“I suppose we had better go to dinner.” They retreat down the stairs again and make their way to the dining room they had passed earlier. Prima takes a seat near to the right of the head of the table. Copia takes the seat to her left. Nearly ten more people flood in to their seats but the head chair remains empty. Prima looks around to find Emeritus but cannot find him. A ghoul walks over and taps Prima on the shoulder as they hand her a letter. It is a thick cardstock card marked with a grucifix. The room is filled with other conversing voices and the clanks of serving utensils and plates against silverware. Copia watches as she reads the card before folding it up and setting it down on the table. 

“Will Emeritus not be joining us?” Copia asks quietly. She gently and very privately plazes her hand in his under the table.

“I’m afraid not.” Copia enjoys her touch but he looks over to see a ghoul near the door and swiftly moves his hand from hers. He is put in dismay as the ghoul turns to leave the dining room. Prima is quiet beside him for the rest of their meal. After dinner, Prima walks home to his room. She takes a key and unlocks his room door. She turns and hands him the key. 

“The ghouls have already placed your belongings in your suite. My room is right down the hall from you. So if you need anything just give me a knock.”

“Thank you Prima but I wouldn’t wish to bother Emeritus in his private quarters.”

“Oh,” Prima shakes her head, “Emeritus spends his evening in the west wing. It’s just you and I on this floor-and the chamber maids.” Copia feels a coldness in him at the thought of her being alone evey night. 

“If you do not mind my asking, why do you not share quarters with your betrothed?” 

“Well,” Prima blushes, “we’re to remain abstinent until the night of the wedding.” Copia stutters and shakes his head apologetically.

“Oh! Pardon me, Prim. I do apologize, eh, I did not mean to impose on such private matters.” Prima giggles at him and shakes her head.

“No need to apologize, Copia,” Copia feels his heart skip a beat as Prima plants a single kiss on his cheek, “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight, Prima.” He whispers to her. She smiles at him and strokes his cheek.

“Goodnight.”


	2. Chapter Two

Prima shuffles through her closet-digging through a drawer of different pairs of shoes. She wears a romantic styled ballet skirt that is a deep shade of peach that fades to white at her scalloped V neck. Blush pink and white flowers are sewn in the sleeves and the bottom hem of the skirt that ends just at her mid calf. She carefully slips on her slippers and tucks her ballet pointe shoes under her arm as she leaves her bedroom. She passes Copias room and see that the door is ajar. Carefully she knocks on the door before poking her head in the room. It is dark and quiet. The heavy drapes are closed despite it being morning. Prima sees the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. She smiles, thinking it is Copia but before she can speak, someone taps her shoulder. Prima turns and jumps at Copia. He is in his usual black garb and has a handful of books in his hands.

“I thought-” she turns to see that the silhouette is gone, “ Nevermind. Did you sleep well?” Copia notices her dress and the shoes under her arm.

“You’re a dancer?” The laces of her shoes dangle against her skirt as she pulls them out from under her arm to show him her dance shoes. They’re old and worn but not so much that their pink color is gone. Prima has studied the ballet since she could walk.

“Thought I’d spend the day practicing.”

“Where do you practice?”

“It is going to sound strange but I like dancing in the attic. The floors are wood and have nicer bounce that most of the other rooms.” She tucks the weathered shoes under her arm. They stand there for a few moments. Prima and Copia haven’t talked very much the past few days. He has been busy preparing for his role as Cardinal while she has had to spend afternoons being poked and prodded as she is fitted for a wedding dress. The outline the seamstress drew painted a terribly extravagant gown for Prima.

“Well, I will let you carry on.” She scoots by Copia and makes her way down the hall. Copia watches as she disappears up the staircase and closes the door behind her. He flicks on the lights in his room and drops his books down on his desk. Removing his biretta, he takes a seat in the wooden chair but instead of opening the books he’d retrieved from the library that morning, he pulls a leather bound journal from the bottom drawer. He peels through the pages of notes and different sketches until he reaches the most recent. With his quill he carefully scribbles something at the bottom of the page. Prima. He stares at the intricate sketch of her face. Removing his glove, he presses his thumb over her lips and swipes gently-smudging the graphite.

“Take me internally, forever yours,” he closes the book, “nocturnal me.”

Prima is sitting on the floor of the attic wrapping the laces of her slippers around her ankles. She stand carefully before starting to stretch. Falling in and out of poses as she warms up.

As she spins she keeps her eyes deadset on the window but as she turns she sees a white figure and falls out of her pirouette. But no one is there. She scoffs at herself and rubs her eyes, irritated. Patting her down she stands again and starts again. But immediately she sees the figure again but when she falls out her turn, the figure is still there. Only now she can see that the pale, almost evacuated looking body in sitting with its back against her and wearing a white nightgown. Prima feels her breathing sharpen and she scoots away from the woman. Her hair is tangled and unbrushed. Suddenly there is a rotten stench in the air and a squelching noise. Prima shudders as she sees think blood begin to pool around the woman’s legs. She has no shoes on and her veins are so dark they almost look black. Terrified, Prima squeezes her eyes shut. When she opens them she screams. The woman is standing now, facing Prima who is still sitting with her knees pulled in close to her chest. Blood on her nightgown drips to the floor where, in a pool of blood, is a newborn baby with skin like blue wax. Prima screams as the woman crouches in front of her and reaches to her cheek. Her nails are bent backwards and her eyes are clean white-like their rolled back completely.

“Please,” Prima screams and sobs as the woman scrapes her fingers across her cheek, “go away!!” She screams and flails her arms around and pulls her knees to her chest and buries her face in her hands-squeezing g her eyes shut. The ugly sound of a screaming baby fills her ears and she hears the woman say her name. Prima screams again so doesn’t have to hear. Then she feels hands around her shoulders but she thrashes to get away-keeping her eyes closed tight.

“Get away from me!!” She screams as she kicks and tries to pull out of the grasp.

“Prima! Please! It’s only me!” Prima recognizes the deep, distinct voice and stops her screaming and opens her eyes slowly. Copia is on his knees with his hands holding each of her shoulders. Sobbing, Prima’s body loosen as she cries harder while her arms wrap themselves around Copia.

“Oh Copia,” she peels away with hot tears spilling, “there was a woman in here...there was so much blood....-a baby....she kept saying my name..” Hiccups escape as she cries into his shoulder. Copia looks around the empty room as he rubs her back and strokes her hair.

“My darling, Prim,” he takes her chin and looks at her “...there is no one here. She’s gone. I’m here, you’re alright.” Her eyes and cheeks are red and puffy, her face hot. He takes her hands and sees they are covered in deep scratches-her hands shaking profusely. Prima sniffles as she tries to stop crying but tears fall helplessly from her blue eyes. In them he sees horror and fear. He stands and picks her up, her arms curled over her body and her head tucks close to her chest. He walks with her in his arms over to the stairs when he realizes she has passed out. He turns to take Prima to her room but there is a freak from the wood floor behind him. Calmly he freezes and turns slowly. In the corner of the room stands the woman with the bloodied gown. He looks her up and down but does not flinch. It watches him as he turns and goes down the stairs. When he reaches the bottom step he hears the door slam behind him. Prima is cold in his arms. He carries her to her room and lays her on her bed. He asks the chambermaid to bring him the nurse and to inform Emeritus. But she explains Emeritus is out for the rest of the day. While he awaits the nurse, he sees that Prima’s blood in all over his hands. He sits at the foot of her bed. The room smells of lavender, like Prima. The drapes are all open and the room is flooded with light. Her room is clean and organized. Her white vanity is in the corner beside her bathroom door. There is a tray filled with powder and other makeup supplies Copia doesn’t recognize. A vase of a single red rose in at her bedside, along with a jewelry box. It is gold and engraved with flowers and little diamonds. On the lid, it is marked with her initials, PVE. Copia looks at his hands again and sees the blood is drying.

“Oh my,” the nurse studies Prima, “what happened?” Copia quickly wipes the blood from his hand as the nurse enters. She looks at Prima and presses her hand against her forehead. Copia stands and makes his way to her bedroom door.

“That’s what I’m going to find out. Take care of her.” Copia looks at Prima once more and feels a twist in his heart. He, fast paced, walks down to the archaic library and goes to furthest back shelf. His fingers trace along the book spines until he finds a black book. It is a log of the church from nearly two centuries ago. He had come across it a few days ago when organizing the library. Slamming the book on the desk in the room, he flicks trough the pages. He stops when he comes across the page he’s looking for. Reading through the page quickly he frowns and his face is swallowed by a grim look. Closing the book he looks up and sighs. He is alone in the quiet library.

“The woman you saw was not a woman. Well, she was but hasn’t been for a very long time. Her name was Elizabeth....she was married to the first leader of the church. In life she was the coldest beast the church has ever encountered. She led at the side of her husband, usually being the one to perform his dirty work for him. The couple were praised and worshipped but their leadership was put into question; what without having a heir yet. But after years of marriage they were finally able to conceive a child,” Copia tries to read Prima but she’s staring blankly at the blood blotched bandages on her arms, “she gave birth to a son. But he never took a breath...he died at birth. Shortly after he did, Elizabeth suffered severe hemorrhaging and died the very same night.”

“Why did I see her?” Prima asks, finally looking up at him. Copia struggles for a moment before shaking his head. He believes that Prima has something within her that draws in the darkness. But he doesn’t think it is something that belongs in the unholy church. There is a different kind of light in that has never been seen in the church. Copia sees that she is tired and still stirred so he retains from going into any more detail.

“An omen maybe? I can’t say for certain. But I say, you do need to rest.” He pulls the blanket of her bed down and she slowly slips under the comforter. He turns to leave but she sits up.

“Wait-” she reaches for him, he turns to her and sees she looks frightened still, “lay with me.” Copia thinks for a brief moment-he didn’t want her to be alone but didn’t want to cross a line.

“Prim, I don’t-”

“Just till I fall asleep?” Her eyes are pooled again and Copia feels the too familiar pang in his heart. Copia looks out the window..it is late and most of the church is asleep by this time-Emeritus is out for the next two days. So Copia closes Prima’s bedroom door and turns out the lights. Prima scoots to the left side of the bed while Copia removes his jacket and his gloves before carefully laying down beside her. He hesitates to lay close to her and is stiff. She rolls to her side and has her back to him. Her hair is like gold hills laying on the pillow. Breathing in he takes in her enchanting perfume. Then, like subconscious instinct, he pulls her into a spooning position. He strokes her hair softly and watches as the blankets rise and fall slowly with her breathing. The moment is warm and quiet...he is not tense anymore and is comfortably cozied up against her. She is nearly asleep in his arms, her heart flutters as she takes in the feeling of being held. Copia closes his eyes for just a moment but can’t bring himself to leave her. Eventually, he falls asleep.

Copia wakes to see that Prima is facing him, still asleep, and curled up against him. His arms are both around her and his head is a mere inch from hers. Lifting his hand, he reaches to carefully move the hair from her face. Her eyes are closed and she is still deep asleep. Without waking her, he slides out of the bed but keeps his eyes on her as he does. The morning light hits her so perfectly-lying in the fresh sun, she looks divine. Copia leans down and hesitates before placing a kiss on her temple. He grabs his coat, gloves and goes to the door but turns to look at her once more before leaving. Quietly, he closes the door behind him and walks down to his room. His room is dark and cold. After washing and changing into his clothes for the day, he sits down at his desk.

“How was your evening, Copia?” Within the seemingly unfathomable darkness, Papa Nihil stands as he watches Copia. He steps out of the darkness, Copia stands immediately and bows to Nihil.

“It was fine,” Copia wonders if he knows he was with Prima, “..and you?”

“Honestly,” Nihil walks over to Copia, “I was a bit restless. It’s hard to catch any sleep when there seems to be unprohibited relationships underway.” Stones topple inside Copia.

“Prima is spoken for, is she not?” Copia can’t seem to find the will to say anything to Nihil. Dread floods inside at the thought of what Emeritus’ reaction would entail. Not so much for himself but rather what would happen to Prima.

“If anything remotely similar to the events of last night occur again, I will not hesitate to take it to Papa Emeritus-to whom you’re to become the trusted right hand. Or has the notion of being honored as Cardinal gone completely over your head?” Nihil’s voice raises as he steps closer to Copia-who bows his head in shame. Copia nods his head and clears his throat.

“Of course not, forgive me. I swear it won’t happen again.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a side note: aging is different for members of the church. So Prima is physically in her early 20s. But is much older than that. The time period is supposed to me in late 90s but everything is taking place in the church/ministry outside of modern cities. Okay. That is all. :p

It has been two weeks since Prima has seen Copia. There is less than two months until he becomes sworn in as Cardinal and, for her, marries Emeritus. The morning she woke after spending the night with him, she searched for him wherever she went-going to the library and waiting for hours on end. In the evenings she listens intently for the sound of his door but all there is, is quiet. After a few days dragged slowly by, she decided to stop seeking him...she thought perhaps he didn’t wish to see her the way she wished to see him. 

Prima is standing in the large fitting room that is just across from the commons of the church residence hall. Three seamstresses are crowded around her skirt, pinning cloth in several spots on her underskirt and corset. It is nearly midday and she has been standing like a statue on a step stool for the seamstresses since she woke. The gown she’s expected to wear is intricate in detail all up to the final stitch. Her veil alone is composed of seven layers-all the way to a cathedral veil. Her grand ball gown is eggshell blue and white-Emeritus asked for black fabric but Prima refused. Prima has her hair tied up loosely in a bun. Her skinny figure is slouched in a tired stance. Under her eyes are pink and pale purple bags. Not only has she been aching from missing Copia but the late nights bring her the most wretched of nightmares. She dreams of Elizabeth and her dead son. But also rats and blood and death. She dreams that the whole church is bleeding crimson blood from the cracks in the wall. Freaking that everyone is dead except for her. The scars on her arms are mere white lines that fade more with each day. But in the mornings when she wakes after the nightmares, she finds bruises splattered on her body. All of it seems to grow worse each day. 

The french doors of the room are closed but she can see through the panes of glass. The common room, decorated with dark decor and Victorian furniture, is visible as well as the hallway. She watches quietly while the woman at her feet sews her gown. A glitter of hope flickers in her when she sees a dark figure outside the doors. But it diminishes when she sees that it is not Copia. Emeritus enters the room-closing the doors behind him. He is wearing his regular suit but not his usual cold expression. He looks nervous. 

“Prima,” He walks over to her, “I would like for you to join me for lunch on the back patio. Sister Imperator thinks it important for the two of us to...talk. I will be there at noon. I don’t suspect you’ll have other plans?” Prima loses focus when she spots Copia as he walks into the commons with Sister Imperator. Her eyes follow him sharply but she quickly stutters before Emeritus turns to look. 

“Oh-of course, Emeritus,” She tries to look at Emeritus but her eyes keep looking up at Copia, “I will be there at the requested time.”

“Very well, you look,” He hesitates like he’s searching for the right word, “..pretty.” Emeritus leaves the room and Prima can’t help but feel a little surprised at him. She spoke to him rarely, he stops by her room every once in a while to say good morning or good day, but never has she ever had a conversation or a real meal with him. 

Eventually, Prima is done with the fitting. After the seamstresses remove the first finished part of the dress, she quickly slips into her grey day dress and black slippers. Without fixing her hair, she zooms out into the hall where Copia is just about the leave the commons. She nearly bumps into him but smiles at him and the ghoul that he is speaking with. Copia is shocked to see her and quickly looks around to see that Sister Imperator is not looking. As well as checking for Nihil and Emeritus. The ghoul smiles secretly beneath his mask but doesn’t say a word. 

“Copia, where have you-” He shakes his head and removes her hand from his shoulder coldly. Although everything inside him wishes to hug her and tell her that he would love nothing more than to spend every waking moment of their day together, he brushes her off. 

“I’m sorry Prima but I really do not have the time. Good day.” Prima’s heart stings as she watches him walk away without looking back. Reluctantly, tears boil in her eyes but she quickly wipes them from her face before they can fall. Copia stops before turning the corner and looks back at her; she too is looking at him from the doorway of the fitting room. Neither of them smile..they just watch each other for a moment before Copia purses his lips and disappears around the corner. Prima frowns as she laces her dress tighter and pulls her hair back into a cleaner bun. She is alone in the fitting room. Peering over at the wire mannequin that wears her dress he frowns in disgust at it. As she closes the door behind her and presses her hands against her face the air suddenly becomes cold and brisk. Outside it looks dark and all the lights in the room go out. Through the doors she can see ghouls pass and nuns join in the commons. Knocking on the glass she grows frustrated-no one can hear her. Prima pulls harshly on the handles of the doors but they still will not open. Becoming more panicked, she screams out for help but there is no answer or response from anyone outside the door. She turns to see that there is a black animal like man crawling on the floor in front of her. The the same blood from her dreams is streamin down the walls-pooling on the floor. She watches in terror as the deomans distorted body slowly reaches her feet. It’s hands are black with long, sharp claws. His eyes are gleaming an unusual red. But as is steps in the pub or of red blood it quickly dissipates to dust. 

“What’s wrong, Prima?” Copia but...not Copia, stands as a black silhouette in front of the window, “Are you afraid?” His voice sounds as though his lips are right against her ears but he is clear across the room from her. She sees in the dark that one of his eyes glows a fluorescent blue. He has a peculiar and somewhat romantic grin on his face. 

“You have never stood this close to where you want to be,” Copia is suddenly against her with his hands on her waist, “You have always waded in the shallows between me and the deep blue sea. You’ll never want this to be over.” His breath on her lips scares her in a way that she hates to enjoy. He licks his lips and growls like an animal...as if he’s hungry. He leans in close but before he touches her lips she slips out from his arms and backs away into the adjacent wall. He watches her as she shudders at him. But the more she looks at him in the darkness, the greater her heart desires him. In an instant she runs and crashes into his arms and in a hard kiss-eyes closed. He growls again at her yearning for him and bites her bottom lip. She smiles but when she opens her eyes the room is empty-no monster or Copia. The doors are no longer closed and the day outside is light again. 

“Are you okay?” Prima jumps at the unfamiliar voice. The ghoul that had been with Copia was now standing in the doorway. 

“You startled me!” Prima gasped and then groans before burying her hands in her face. 

“I believe I may be going mad.” She laughs wryly before looking up at the ceiling with another groan.

“You’re not going mad, m’lady. It’s just the way of the church,” he shrugs, “communicates with our newcomers.” Prima doesn’t say anything to the ghoul.

“Oh me? I’m Aether, by the way. And you’re,” he slips inside the room and closes the door behind him, “the secret lover of our soon to be cardinal.” His tone is silly and excited as he falls onto the loveseat across from Prima who scoffs at him. But she does like the way he phrased it. The secret lover.

“That’s absurd?! I can’t say that I have any idea of what you’re speaking about.”

“Right, sure, sure, of course.” Behind his silver mask he rolls his eyes, “that’s why you wait desperately in the evenings for him and spend your time in that dusty old library hoping, wishing, for our new cardinal.” Aether watches as she thinks for a moment. A brief hiatus fills the conversation before she is finally able to speak. 

“How could you possibly know whether I’m waiting for anyone?” She asks-saddened by her own actions. Knowing fully well that he was right. Copia is who she waits for. Hopes for. Hungers for.

“Because I also noticed your little hand hold the first day he arrived. And then, of course, I saw him enter your room one evening and not leave till early morning.” Something about his tone sounds like he is trying to insinuate something that Prima knows did not happen. 

“We were asleep all night.” She retorts but can’t help let her mind wander to the idea of being with Copia.

“So you didn’t…?” Aether makes some ridiculous hand gestures with a theatrical motion.

“No!” Prima smiles with an embarrassed blush. She shakes her head, “No, but,” her heart hesitates and she shakes her head as she looks down at her hands.

“I do feel for him something I’ve never had before.” 

“What is that?” Aether asks.

“It’s so ridiculous but when I see him, I feel as though I need him.” Prima feels a spark when she says the words out loud. But is interrupted by Aether as he gasps and points his finger towards her.

“You love the cardinal!” Prima throws a pillow at him and he catches it and tosses it right back at her.

“You must not tell a soul or I swear to Satan I’ll-”

“Calm yourself, lady,” Aether stands and walks over to take a seat by her as she squeezes the pillow, “forbidden love and a little scandal will make for an interesting story. I’m all for this. Also you’re running late.”

“Late?” Prima is confused, “for what-” her eyes widened as it dawns on her.

“Lunch with Emeritus!” She runs out of the room, nearly slipping on the carpet but slides into the door frame to turn and look at Aether, “thank you, Aether.” 

Prima runs down the hall but on her way she can’t help but think about what Aether said. She didn’t know about love. All she was raised to believe in was sin and the proper ways to worship in the unholy church. Her own parents didn’t love each other. Her mother, of course, had died years ago when she was hanged for ‘witchcraft’-back when hanging was all the rage. Her father spent nearly all his life in the church-at the ministry in the outskirts of London. She did love her brother but no one has heard from him in years. Prima pushes the thoughts to the back of her mind and zooms out to the patio. Thankfully Emeritus is just sitting down when she steps outside. Before she walks over she straightens herself up a bit and punches her cheeks lightly before taking a deep breath and walking over to the table. Emeritus stands and pulls her chair out for her. 

“I trust your fitting wrapped up well?” A ghoul brings out a tray of food and another brings a bottle of red wine. 

“Oh yes,” Prima says softly, “but still nowhere near finished with the dress.” There is a pale soup in front of her and a bowl of bread in the center of the table. They both nibble on their food quietly for a few minutes before Emeritus speaks up.

“I thought I’d inform you that after the wedding we’ll be moving to Florence, Italy.” Prima nearly chokes on her soup. Her face flushed red as she coughs hard and tries to clear her throat. 

“Just the two of us?” Her voice is dry as she quickly takes two gulps of her wine.

“Yes. We own a manor there deep in the country. Really, you’d have it all to yourself-as the Cardinal and I will be managing the church here. You and well,” Prima cringes lightly without looking up from her soup, “any heirs we should happen to produce.” The odd formality he has makes her stomach turn. Everything about the marriage and the heir feels so clinical to her. Like she's expected to have a baby for the church rather than herself and her soon to be husband.

“Is something wrong?” Prima feels a little fear spill inside. She feels Emeritus watch her as she sips wine from her glass. 

“No, of course not.” She whispers as she dabs the edges of her mouth and finally looks up at him. Then she forces herself to bite her tongue. With Copia she has no problem expressing herself but Emeritus is different. So different.

One week later

“Aether!” Prima whispers as she enters the library, her eyes immediately spotting him sitting at the fireside, straightened with his eyes deep in a book. It has been a week since they met and with Emeritus always away on business for the church and Copia avoiding her, she has spent nearly every day with Aether. Their relationship has quickly become that of close friends. Prima sits beside him on the chair armrest and peeps down to see what he’s reading. 

“Prim,” He doesn’t look up from the book in front of him, “I must be acutely focused if I plan on finishing the entire text before the days end.” She sighs and frowns but quickly regenerates a cheerful smile as she gently moves behind the chair and covers Aethers eyes. He smiles and sets his book aside as he reaches up and takes her hands from his eyes and holds them in his. She swoops around the chair, causing her white circle skirt to swirl around her body. Aether flicks her face and rolls his eyes at the diamond pattern that lines the hem of her sweetheart collar. It amuses him that she wears a new white dress every day. 

“I’m quite bored, friend. Let’s go for a walk.” She smiles sweetly as he looks up at her. She puckers her bottom lip at him and he shakes his head. 

“May I remind you, we are forbidden to be speaking so colloquially. You’re going to get the both of us in trouble.”

“Emeritus is out again today. And Nihil-he won’t find out. It's just a walk. We can just go to the garden.”

“Please?” There is a long pause before Aether shrugs and smiles at her.

“Fine, as you wish, Prima.” He stands and takes her arm in his as they exit the library. It is midday and the halls are quiet. Prima leans her head on Aethers shoulder and sighs as they step outside into the cool spring day. They walk for a while through the crooked path around the garden. No one is out, not even the groundskeeper. She looks at Aether who is walking with his eyes straight in front of him.

“The ghoulette you’re in love with, is she beautiful?” Aether has told Prima of a girl he’d met when he’d gotten misdirected when he first joined the church. He said it was like talking to someone he’s already met before.

“I wouldn’t know,” Aether whispers, “we’ve never seen each other. All I know is she works the West wing while I stay in the East.” Prima frowns-reminded of how she and Copia are never near each other despite how they feel. Aether must feel the same heartache as her.

“Well, maybe you could court her properly?” She suggests but Aether shakes his head profuselfy. 

“Perhaps I did,” He shrugs, “and she is disinterested in me?”

“Who could not love a sarcastic, somewhat intelligent, goon like you?” Prima jokes and Aether stifles a laugh. They pass rows and rows of blossoming flowers and overgrown shrubs of vines. Prima stops abruptly and pulls Aether behind a rose bush-they crash to the grass. 

“What in-” she covers Aethers mouth and points over the rose bush, “oh, I see!” He whispers to her with a wild grin. Copia is standing beside the fountain, watching the water cascade down the stone fixtures. 

“Prima,” he looks at her, “now is time for you to ‘court’ your love.”

“I couldn’t-I don’t even know that he wishes to see me.”

“Do this,” he offers, “and I will seek the ghoulette in the West wing.” Prima bites her lip but quickly smiles and holds her hand out to him. They shake firmly for a few seconds before he motions for her to get up. She struggles to stand and trips over her skirt as she falls out from the corner of the rose bush in front of fountain-right behind Copia. He turns and sees Prima-her dress stained with grass and a rose leave poking out from her hair. She clears her throat and straightens her skirt before proceeding to curtsy.

“It’s good to see you,” she smiles and steps towards him, “Copia.”

“Excuse me-” he attempts to brush past her but she takes his hand and stops him in his tracks.

“There is no one here. It is only us, I promise you...we can take these fleeting moments for the two of us. Just us together.” Copia does not meet her eyes for a few moments. Curiosity hits him when he see the bruises on her forearms and the glaze in her sleepless eyes. She wears a brief smile but to him she looks shattered. And it hurts him to see her that way.

“I never got the chance to thank you, Copia. For staying with me that night.” Prima sits by the fountain but Copia stays standing-internally debating whether to answer or walk away. 

“I can’t tell you how I’ve wished to speak to you.” The silence continues still. Aether impatiently listens and tries to look over at them. Prima finally frowns. Her heart bursts and she finally stands and cracks.

“Will you not say anything?” Her voice shakes, “I beg you, please-” without warning Copia pulls Prim into his arms and sharply meets her eyes. His hand moves from her elbow to her cheek. She hugs him and rests her head on his shoulder with a wide smile. A weight on his soul lifts as she relaxes in his arms. They hold each other close in the safety of the garden and it’s as if the world is gone and all that remains is them. Alone. Together. 

“Oh Copia,” Prima whispers without moving an inch. Copia kisses the side of her head, still in their embrace and then peels away to look at her. Her face against the backdrop of clean roses is like a perfectly beautiful, unholy portrait from hell itself. He interrupts her and clears his throat to speak. 

“I cannot seem,” His voice is soft and quiet. Copia carefully removes the rose leaf from her hair, “to think of anyone but you. My dreams are haunted by your scent and your beauty. And, I, I wish to apologize. It rips my soul to shreds that I have avoided you with no explanation. Nihil-he-” Copia is interrupted by Aether popping out from the rose bush.

“Sister Imperator is coming this way, your dark excellency.” He takes Prima by the forearm and tugs her away but she resists. She hops back over to Copia and places a kiss on his cheek. 

“There is six weeks until I’m to be married. Every night at dusk, let us meet here.” She whispers as she lets go of his hand as she’s pulled away by Aether again. But she turns to look at him again,

“It’s bliss to be held by you again.”


	4. Chapter Four

Prima sits in her blush blue, silk nightgown, wrapped tightly in a wool shawl with her yellow hair down. The night is black but blue light veils the garden in shades of blue. Fog fills her sight line and floods the paths of the flower garden. It is just before dusk, she had slipped out of her room barefoot and quietly tiptoed to the fountain in the back of the garden. She’s sitting on the fountain ledge with her knees pulled to her chest and her head resting in them with her arms wrapped around her shins. It is chilly when the wind hisses. Her fingertips and the end of her nose both turn gradually a deep shade of pink in the coldness. But she sits still and quietly waits, hopes, that she won’t be alone in the cold much longer. But in the garden she gets to thinking. She’s going to marry someone who doesn’t know her. Who does not love her. She’s living in a place far from anything she knows. Her nights are haunted by obscene nightmares that terrify her more than death. The practices of the church shes worshiped since birth contrasts her boisterous disposition in a way that deeply confuses her. Conflict in her head rips her up inside. Then there is Copia who has her soul melting to gold as she waits for someone who isn’t coming. With heartache unlike any she has faced as a girl, Prima starts to cry. As tears stroll down her cheeks the wind wisps hard and fast around her. Stands of her hair whip around in the stir of brisk wind. Holding her head down she’s sobbing into her sleeves. Clenching her fists so hard her hands begin to hurt. Her heart is so heavy she wishes that something would reach inside her chest and just tear it out. Peering down in the reflection of the water and looks at her face. Her chest begins to burn as an unfamiliar anger begins to boil in her veins. She viciously splashes at the water and hits her fists against the cement fountain as hard as she can. Despite that it should, Prima does not flinch at the red, orange flames that spark up in the grass around the garden fountain. Her cheeks warm up until they’re hot and the dancing flames grow tall with her anguish. But her anger, as quickly as it rose, falls just as hard back into tears-and the fire smothers itself to grey smoke. Hunching over she closes her eyes and tries her best to stop crying. The blades of grass are cold but black with soot from the fire. 

Then she feels a warmth on her shoulder. Sniffling, she lifts her head to look over, her blonde hair falling away from her face as she does. It’s like looking at true devastation. Pink, wet with tears, and puffy eyelids. Swollen lips, running nose and bloodshot eyes. 

“Who am I?” Her voice doesn’t stand a chance against her sadness, so it crumbles as she speaks. Copia carefully kneels in front of Prima who still has tears spilling down her cheeks. Her hands barely cling to themselves as they shake in her lap. Her body faces towards Copia but her eyes look off in a million-miles-away kind of stare. Copia saw the fires that her force conjured and couldn’t help but feel amazed at her. But more than anything he wants her to smile at him the way she did when they first met. The light in her face when she’s happy is unlike any other. Seeing her sad it torture. And the smile she gave to him on the day that he met her in the parlor amazed him more than any fire.

“You have a power in you that I, and so many, shall never know.” Copia removes his black gloves and takes her hands in his. Prima sniffles again and shakes her head in shame. Copia takes his hand and wipes her face while he gently tucks her loose hair behind her ears. 

“I am feeling so terribly tortured.” She whispers quietly to him without looking up at him. His hand against her cheek comforts her somewhat but she still frowns. Prima slides down and sits in the grass beside Copia, beside them is a camellia flower bush. As she traces the blushing pink flower petals, she carefully leans into Copias chest and he takes her hand in his.

“I feel as though I am too feeble and fragile for you, Copia.” He takes the camellia flower from her fingers and places it in her hair.

“You’re still blooming, Prima,” He whispers, “and I too, feel an ineptitude . You’re too special and..beautiful for me. And it is my suspicion that one day-you’ll be anterior in the church.” There is a moment of quietness between them. Prima closes her eyes, finally breathing calmly. Copia holds her with his eyes open as he looks up at the stars.

“I’m frightened, Copia.” Her whisper is so soft and quiet, Copia wonders if it is sleep talking. 

“What of?” He answers anyway.

“Whom I am to become.” She squeezes her eyes shut tightly and buries her face against his chest.

“Oh Prima,” Copia whispers, “I cannot hold you tight enough.” 

“Just don’t let me go.” He kisses her lips lightly and holds her closer. The soft midnight light illuminates the camellia flowers that surround Prima and Copia. Copia holds her small figure in his arms as her lashes slowly lower and she closes her tired eyes. Nightmares have infiltrated Prima’s mind since the first day she arrived at the church; dreams of death and blood and anguish. But as she lay beside Copia in the midnight light, she slips away into a dream where she finds him through the pain of sleep. The dream still entails it’s violent nature but this time, Prima is beside Copia in the fire. Despite the darkness behind the flames, she feels serenity beside him in the dream. 

Copia sees how she does not stir in her sleep as her breaths grow deep and low. It aches him to see such a pretty being so tired and weathered from her own mind. 

“Goodnight, my beautiful.”


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter may be a little much but I don’t know. Also I’m not big on smut-so there won’t be much of that in this. But that’s negotiable if y’all want to let me know what your thoughts are in regards to my that aspect of romance.

Prima and Copia have spent every night with one another in the camellia garden by the fountain. Meeting right at dusk and holding each other, whispering sweet nothings, until dawn. The days have felt like divine sin for both of them. But as the days slide by, as they tend to do, dates got closer.There is a mere seven days until Prima is to be married to Papa Emeritus lll. But the the forbidden lovers have conjured a plan that has the potential of getting the both of them in immense amounts of trouble with the church. In two days time they will secretly elope; get married by Prima’s father with the marriage being witnessed by two individuals. Her father was hesitant and, at first, he refused. But he suddenly changed his decision; reasons unknown to Copia. Prima has a couple of people in mind but had trouble finding how to ask. Copia on the other hand, is having trouble seeing the after part of getting married to Prima. He sits in his room just after dawn-after spending another night with Prima. They talked for hours about nothing and nonsense. But still her voice rang like sweet bells in his ears no matter what she was saying. She had admitted to him that she was growing increasingly nervous about the days to come. He consoled her worries, of course, but he can barely manage his own dismay about the matter. 

There is a light knocking on the door of Copias room. He swiftly stands and makes his way over to the door.

“Aether,” Copia opens the door for him to enter, “have you gotten word from our potential witnesses?” Two days ago Prima and Copia sent Aether off in secret to retrieve witnesses for their matrimony. A distant cousin, whom Prima was confidant would agree, as well as her estranged brother-who she had little hope for in agreeing to her proposal.

“Prima’s cousin in Montreal has refused. But I got word from her brother in Sweden and he will be traveling here night of.” The secret wedding is to be held in the back garden the night before Prima’s scheduled marriage to Papa Emeritus lll. Followed the day after, is the swearing in of soon to be, Cardinal Copia.

“So we need one more witness.” There is a silence between them; Copia is wracking his mind for someone who would be so willing. Aether mustering the courage to speak his mind.

“I,” Aether stumbles as he gathers his thoughts, “I would be honored, your dark excellency, to be a witness to the marriage of my dear friend Prima.” Aether smiles beneath his mask-sure of his offer. But Copia shakes his head.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. Your status in the church, it’s much too-” Aether holds his hands up to interrupt Copia. 

“I must tell you something, your dark excellency.” Aether waits a moment before Copia nods, encouraging him to explain.

“Prima is unlike any other. She is a prize of life to behold. I feel a loyalty to her that I don’t fully understand yet. But something in my faith in this unholy church tells me she is worth all sacrifice.” Every word made Copia confident in his belief that Prima was destined for something the church has never seen. She has a swoon on all others around her that is like evil-great, powerful sway that will be the cause of her thriving. 

“I indeed feel the same,” Copia smirks, “she is unique in a manner that makes a man turn a blind eye to his long standing ways of life. Forever grateful to you, Aether.” Copia sighs before he sits down on the loveseat that sits at the foot of his bed. Aether sits in the footstool just across from him.

“I must ask you another favor, Aether.” Copia says quietly. Aether nods his head.

“After my Prima and I are wed,” Copia felt his heart get heavy, “Will you take her away from here?” A distinct pause floods the room. Aether is taken aback and cannot decide what to ask first; Why? Where? For how long?

“I have an address on this card and a map to said address, where I need you to take her after we marry. I have much knowledge of our church’s functionality and have been faithful all my life. But I have researched punishment of heresy in an unholy church; there is little to be frowned upon in our realm of belief ...as sin is praised...but betraying a Papa is among the highest of those minimal means of heresy. She would be killed, not I,” he swallows his heartache-Aether looks at the intricacies of the lettering on the thick piece of car stock Copia has given him, “..it would be she who faced the punishment. No second death to live among our father Lucifer in lakes of sulfur fire-she would be damned to death of mortals and have nothing but the blankness of death.” Aether wants to reject the idea but he decides that he wants to keep his friend and her live safe from harm. 

“What do I tell Prima?” Aether asks but Copia sternly responds;

“Nothing. I will remain at the church after we wed. But ...I need her to leave and be far from this place so I can keep her safe. To love her and be her husband eternally, we must be apart. It’s a toll I’ve considered greatly...but it’s my hope that one day I will have the ability to be with her for always. Will you do what I’m asking of you?” Without hesitation, Aether nods his head and stands with his hand held out to Copia.

“Of course. I will get her to wherever you wish safely. You have my promise.” They firmly shake hands before Copia leads Aether back to his bedroom door to leave.

“Thank you, Aether. Your services are unimaginable, I thank you eternally.” The door closes and Copia sighs in relief. Prima surrounds his mind as he lays down on his bed and closes his eyes. Aether stands silent on the other side of the door for a second. He smiles at the thought of the day when they would reunite.

Meanwhile, Prima is asleep in her room, in a white day dress. Her hair is pulled up into French braids and she is gently tucked in a grey blanket. It is early morning now and the sun outside her window is slowly growing brighter. There is a gentle knock on her door but she does not wake. The door freaks quietly as it is pushed open. Emeritus is now in her bedroom doorway, watching her from across the room. It's quiet but he can make out her heavy breaths as she sleeps. Slowly, he walks over to her and sits at the foot of her bed. 

“Emeritus,” Prima quickly sits up and pulls the blanket over her lap, “What are you doing?” He leans in close...amorously to her but every instinct in her body beckons her to pull away. So she does-much to his discountenance. 

“Please, um,” she backs scoots a little more from him, “It is far too early for such activity.” He rolls his eyes and moves closer to her but she hops off her bed and lands on the floor. 

“Is the thought of me that repulsive? You can’t even kiss me?” Prima feels bad for a moment as he frowns but it quickly grows from a hurt frown to a somewhat angry frown. 

“No,” she sits on the bed beside him, “I just, I’m too nervous. Not ready...I don’t know.” Prima doesn’t want to do anything with Emeritus. She has no desire for him...she yearns for Copia or even a chamber maid to knock on the door so the awkward moment would stop. But no such knock interrupts.

“I see. You’re not…” he pauses and she smiles anxiously, “...experienced?” Prima feels odd as he says this. 

“Well,” she laughs nervously, “I don’t really-” His mouth is over hers before she can finish. She kisses him back but much to her reluctance. He kisses much more aggressively than Copia-at least not in a manner that’s enjoyable. Then without warning, his hands eagerly seize her bosom. An uncomfortable feeling floods in her chest as he leans in to her so she falls back on the mattress. He bites her neck a little too hard and has a too rough of grip on her body. An alarmed gasp escaped her as his hand quickly curls up her skirt. Her face gets hot as she tries to hold her legs closed as tightly as she can. Her hands are clenched at her sides as she closes her eyes and thinks of Copia. Emeritus has his hands on her thighs as he kisses them. Outside it has grown cold and windy. In the room she feels it's getting colder and darker like everything is concentrating around the both of them. As he gets further Prima can’t stand anymore so she slides out from under him-her face cherry red and her heart beating a million miles a minute. Her eyes are locked with Emeritus who smiles at her blushing. But unbeknownst to him; she holds back hot tears. He says nothing and simply holds her cheek for a brief moment before leaving the room. Prima waits for him to close her door behind him before curling up on her bed. She tries to calm down and keep herself from crying but she feels too bad inside. Getting up, she pulls her hair down and starts to undo her dress. Prima goes to her private bathroom and starts to run a bath. In the mirror she looks at her swollen lips and frowns. She splashes her face and cleans it with lavender soap. Her dress slips off her bony figure exposing gaunt like body. Her ribs accentuate her torso with hip bones poking out prominently. She feels like a ghost when she looks at herself in the body length mirror. After cringing at her skeletal self, she climbs into the tub. The bathroom is dark with no windows. The walls are painted a deep cadet blue. There is a mural of deep red and white flowers on the north wall that lighten the darkness just slightly.

She sits in the porcelain claw foot tub curled up with her eyes closed. Her thighs feel numb and he stomach swirls in knots as she thinks about Emeritus and how he touched her. When it gets to be too much she submerges under the warm water. It is quiet and tranquil under the water as she clears her mind. But it quickly goes into a panic; there are hands on her shoulder all of a sudden. Tight claws that pinch her shoulders. She tries to sit up but the hands hold her down in the water. Her lungs start to hurt as she tries to hold her breath. But as she struggles more and more to get out of the hands grip, she takes a deep breath of water and chokes on it. Water splashes and spills over the sides of the tub as she kicks and thrashes in the water. Her hands go back and forth from scratching at the arms on her and gripping the sides of the tub. Right when she feels her heart start to burst she finally emerges from the water with a loud gasp for breath. She falls into a coughing fit as she lets her slim body fall to the wooden floor as she crawls out from the water. Laying on her back she coughs and gasps as she looks around for whomever was holding her. But there was no one. And the only noise is the splash of water in the tub as it settles. Her eyes are bloodshot and pink-her collarbones and chest bright red with an ache. She is cold as she lays on her back with her eyes closed as she tries to control her breath.


	6. Chapter Six

In a late hour of the evening, the air is quiet and still-just as static as the previous nights when Prima is awaiting Copia. The fountain creates little splashes as it runs, water trickling from the stone structure smoothly. A loving smile creeps on Prima’s pale face as Copia appears around the corner of the garden and grabs at her waist lovingly with a kiss. He grins at her as she and him sit down on the grass together.

“I’ve longed all day for right now.” She whispers with a smile, “I missed you.” Copia watches her as she continues talking about her day; a good day that was rather uneventful. But as he listens to her voices and gazed at her he sees that she looks weathered. Still divine in beauty but her eyes are tired and and thin like a ghost. But her eyes still shine with her cheerful disposition despite her tired effort to maintain it. 

“I don’t think I ever told you,” Prima whispers, “I was born out of wedlock, my father was that of a very,” she shrugs with a giggle, “... promiscuous nature but when a harlot like my mother claimed to bear his child...he married her so I might be the heir of his small ministry in our little town. But….. as I got older he saw less and less of a high priestess. Perhaps the church torments next so because it too feels my ineptitude ...but I was beginning to feel as though my father didn’t see me at all. Never in a million lifetimes would I’ve expected him to help me in one of my most unexpected endeavors.” 

“Perhaps he simply saw more than a high priestess.” Copia suggests but Prima simply shrugs. 

“What about your father?” She pokes her head up to look at him but he shakes his head.

“Deity’s of our church are my only fathers. I was raised from birth in our ministry in Spain by unholy sisters of the convent. Until I was a young man-I was moved to work as a priest in Stockholm. Since then I’ve merely been climbing the ranks of our church throughout Europe.” Copia has been a lone man all his life-given he had his encounters with woman of all walks of life but he had always put the church first. As it was all he ever knew. But Prima has somehow paused him in his steps as he can’t seem to not think of her before everything else. 

“Perhaps you’ll follow Emeritus, become a Papa.” She says quietly and contemplates the idea briefly.

“Perhaps,” he watches her as she traces the hem of his grucifix, “but I have a feeling that there is someone else in line for that.” Copia leans over to Prima and the two exchange an Eskimo kiss. Prima teases him with a devious grin. Copia leans in close to her and hesitates just before her lips. Prima leans in the rest of the way until their lips lock. It’s a kiss that made Prima smile and tingle. It’s warmer and more intimate. She smiles as they pull apart- the secrecy of the sleeping garden in the midnight glow makes the moment all the better. Copia has never been entranced in such a way that he would I against his own superiors. Something tells him to stop and let her go but looking at her blushing he kisses her again-sprinkling little kisses on her neck with wandering fingertips around her waist. He finally wraps her in his arms and and presses his forehead to hers and they begin to sway silently to the hum of the fountain.

“I love you.” Copia says.

“I love you.” She replies without a second thought. Prima suggestively reaches to undo the back of her dress as she sits up straight front of Copia. As she undoes her dress she feels her heart beat harder against her chest-so heard she can nearly hear it. Eventually she grows so nervous that Copia takes her hand and keeps it from undoing her dress. She looks at him as he takes his gloves off and delicately begins to undo her dress for her. His hands are surprisingly warm as they graze her skin as he pulls her dress down her shoulders, revealing her white slip dress. Her collarbones poke out in what Copia feels, the most beautiful way. Her chest is pale and her bosom is covered loosely by the silk dress. Copia feels a brief hiatus in his confidence as she moves closer to him. A feeling to which he has never been aquatinted. Prima notices his hesitance. She holds his shoulders gently as he lays down on his back-Prima sitting lightly on his hips, her skirt laying over his clothed stomach and thighs like a blanket. 

There is something equally graceful and erotic as she pulls her slip off and sets it to the side. Capias hands travel over her soft skin as he pulls her down to his face and kisses her. He feels her skinniness and warmth as he holds her. Prima peels away just slightly and looks at Copia.

“I’m forever yours.”

——————————

“Oh you perfect little sinner!” Aether chuckles at Prima, “And you say he’s your first?” It is late morning and Prima has just admitted to her evening. Which she is regretting as her friends excitement is too much for her to not to be embarrassed. 

“It was,” Prima recollects the evening prior, “But I cannot say anymore. The salacious story would make me blush.” She feels her heart sputter as she recollects quietly to herself the events of the night before.

“I’m glad for you, friend.” Aether lifts his mask half way and kisses her cheek, “nothing is more sinful than loving that which is forbidden. I will see you at dinner.” He leaves the room and closes the door behind him. Prima feels her stomach spin as she thinks of Copia. But after a few moments there is a creak from behind her. She can hear heavy breathing. She looks to the door for Aether but Prima stands in the middle of an empty room. Up close to her ear she hears the word;

“Fire.” There is a fireplace across the room. Her hands are cold with sweat as she nervously watches the fireplace that is dark with soot and cold stone. There is no light in the room with the drapes sealed shut and the door closed. She knows not what compels her as she intently stares at the empty fireplace and forces her breath to remain steady. Squeezing her eyes shut she thinks of red and orange flames; dancing staggardly as it crackles and pops. With eyes still shut, she feels a heat on her cheeks. Holding her hands out she feels the warmth on her fingertips too. Peeking at the fireplace she sees a manifested fire burning lightly in the once empty pit. Eagerly she sits on her knees just before the fire and stares at it. Inside she feels a glow just behind her heart as she reaches out at the tips of the flames. Her eyes are glazed with its glow as she leans in close. As she does, she hears a faint murmur behind her. She stands abruptly and turns to look at the room around her. Their are vague whispers coming from different corners of the room; whispers that sound as if to be having a conversation with each other in the dark corners. Prima feels daunted but swallows her fear and tries to listen to the voices. As she slowly makes out the noise she hurriedly grabs a journal from her bedside and tears out a paper as she listens and writes what she can make out. It is quiet for a moment. Then she reads what she’s scribbled down;

“Lam led,” Prima traces the black letters, “..anier aremirp al.” It looks like nonsense and the room sits in quiet for a moment but suddenly Prima feels a pang in her left lower abdomen. She cringes at the sting as she unravels her corset of her dress and searches her stomach. A red outline begins forming on her pale skin. She gasps in pain as she falls to her knees as she watches her skin is branded-a grucifix slowly burns into her skin. Before she can truly take in what’s happened she hears the hissing voices again and scrambles to her paper again to write.

“Lleco’l ed tnama,” she says aloud as she scribbles it down, “anen I nen ed eram. Trom al ed anier.” The Fire dies in an instant with a swoosh of wind through the room that ruffles the drapes and Prima’s blonde hair. Then there is a stillness. She stands and pulls off her dress before going to her wardrobe and pulling on a blue day dress. It is long sleeved, only down to her knees and free of wrinkles. Prima pulls her hair back and ties it in a black ribbon. Grabbing her journal, she leaves her room. Her stomach feels tender as she walks out of her room and down the hall. She passes the common area and the dining hall to the library. There is only a ghoul at the door in the otherwise empty room. The ghouls eyes don’t follow her as she passes him and steps into the plethora of shelves. But as soon as she does it strikes her that she has no idea how to translate the words without knowing the language. But she grabs armfuls if books and sets them down on the library table and starts somewhat mindlessly flicking through the pages. Prima reads about different Latin dialects that is similar to what she wrote but not enough to translate. Growing increasingly more frustrated she puts her head down in the table and frowns. She groans quietly before lifting her head only to yell in surprise. Sister Imperator is peering down at the books in front of her.

“What are you doing?” Sister Imperator asks, not suspiciously but rather kindly. Prima shuffles the papers around in front of her and shakes her head ambiguously.

“I am trying to find out what language this is but I can’t seem to find it anywhere. I looked in the scriptures and there’s nothing the words translate to-tha I can find.” The sister snatches it from Prima’s fingers and scans it over.

“Hmm,” Sister Imperator looks at the paper again, “Interesting. I don’t recognize it either, I would ask our dark excellency, Copia. He has translated many scriptures for the church over the years. Perhaps he will know.” With that she disappears deep into the library. Prima places her futile books back and makes her way to Copias room. She knocks twice before opening the door; Copia sits at his desk with a book in his hands. He wears his black suit and his leather gloves. He smiles at her but cautiously looks out the door as she enters. 

“Good morning, mine,” she smiles as she slicks through her journal, “I am in need of your assistance.” He stands across from her at his desk as she flicks through her journal.

“Anything.” He leans over to get a look at her materials which are hard to discern. But she lays it out in front of her before flipping it to face Copia. He studies it for a few moments and squints as he pulls it closer.

“Odd, it appears to be backwards Catalan,” Prima has no idea what this is and it registers immediately Copia, “It is a Western Romance language derived from Vulgar Latin and named after the medieval Principality of Catalonia. It diverged from the other romance languages in the 9th century. Tell me, darling, where did you find this?” Copia has come across Catalan in times past but very rarely has he seen it intentionally backwards or grammatically out of order. Prima Wants to badly explain what happened but doesn’t want to worry his mind.

“It’s complicated,” Prima sees her answer isn’t satisfactory but she wants to resolve this puzzle urgently, “I will explain when we meet this evening.” She whispers as she quickly plants a little kiss on his cheek. Copia grabs her hand before she turns and sees him digging through the bookshelf by the window of his room. He finally pulls a book out before turning to hand her a leather book with no cover title.

“Here is a Catalan language book, you’ll find translations for the words in here.” Copia watches her with curiosness as she flips through some of the pages. Once again Prima has sparked his curiosity.

“Thank you, Copia,” she squeezes his shoulder as she stands. He rests his hand on hers for a brief moment and kisses her cheek before she slips out of his room. She walks down the hall and a set of stairs to the dining hall. She see Aether sitting alone at the large mahogany table.

“Hello Aether,” Prima sits down at the empty table beside her friend who is reading a book, “How's your reading?”

“Fine…” he trails off as he watches her place the book in front of her, “But the real question is what in the name of Lucifer has compelled lady Prima to open a book?” He closes his book and eagerly peeks over at her book.

“If you must know,” Prima rolls her eyes, “I have to translate some things.” Aether scoots closet to her and reads her notes as she opens them. They spend a near half hour sorting through the words and organizing them correctly.

“So ‘Lam led anier aremirp al’ would be….” Prima scribbles on her page with Aether watching closely as he reads to himself, “La Primera reina del mal.” Aether quickly flicks through the pages of the Catalan language book and looks for the translation of the words. As he does, Prima reverses the next set of words.

“The next is ‘Amant de l’ocell’,” she writes it down for Aether as she moves to the next set. Meanwhile Aether drops his pen as he reads what he’s translated. 

“What is it?” Prima asks without looking up from her page. Aether shakes his head am before picking his utensil up again.

“Nothing. Let us finish before we discuss.”

“The next is ‘Mare de nen I nena’, and the last is ‘Reina de al mort’.” She watches as Aether concentrates as he translates the lines as quickly as he can. When he places his own down he slides it in front of Prima but does not look at her. He sits thinking about the words.

“The First queen of evil ...Lover of the bird…,” Prima’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, “Mother of boy and girl. Queen of the dead.”


	7. Chapter Seven

Copia is standing in his room looking at himself in the mirror. In his hand is the wedding band he plans on presenting to Prima. It is a claddagh pendant that he inherited from an unholy sister of the convent he knew during his youth. The ring was carefully sculpted and polished by an Irish blacksmith just off the coast of Ireland. The man created only two claddagh pendants from gold before falling victim to the Black Death. How the rings came into the possession of one of his sisters-he doesn’t know. But he looks at the ring and holds it tight in the palm of his leather gloved hand. It is early morning, the church has barely woken as the sun slowly rises and spills in through open windows. It is a just under a week until Prima is supposed to marry Emeritus. But it is a mere day till Prima and Copia are to be married in secret. The evening to come will entail the lovers meeting in the back garden with both Aether and Prima’s brother and father; Aether and her brother as witnesses while her father is to marry them. After they elope is what torments Copias heart. Aether has been working closely with him to plan the escape of the ghoul and Copias love. Aether, on horseback, is to meet her in the woods a mile out from the church and take her to from where they are, Rome, to Vatican City where he will then get her on a boat to take her to a secret enclave in the countryside of northern Paris, France. They made it a point to avoid cars and planes as a means of keeping Prima as safe as possible throughout the journey. As well as keep her travels as anonymous and untraceable. Technology is scarce among the unholy church so Copia has prepared a box of all information Prima will need in regards to how they would keep in touch. The box is a black square with twine wrapped around it. It’s small enough to fit in a pocket. He buries it in his breast pocket and takes the ring from his hand places it in a tiny drawstring bag; reuniting it with the identical ring. Then he emerges out from his living quarters and into the quiet hall. It is a bright day outside but the halls feel grey and cold. Copia looks over at Prima’s bedroom door but it is unmoving. He turns to make his way down the hall but here’s a muffled sound. It is coming from within Prima’s room. 

A black figure that glows red in the light from the hall through the open door is distorted and hunched over Prima as she sleeps. His bones protrude callously under his textured skin. It’s tongue glides against Prima’s blushing cheek as it’s grotesque and claw like hands harshly grip her forearms. It’s sinister voices whispers a quiet chant of what sounds to be backwards Latin into her ear. Prima sweats and cringes as she sleeps. Her arms red with fresh bruises as the demon like creature spouts it’s maledctions to her. Copia opens the door more with a light squeak and like time itself froze the monster stops and turns its head. Copia is immensely unafraid of the creatures spoken of throughout folklore and even odd beast conjured within Wicca witch and warlock tales. But the yellow of this beast eyes and the irregularly long and delighted smile on its face turn his stomach to rot. His cheek bones are as round and red as apples and his nose hooked and burning red like blood. The hair on his head is black and thin-exposing thick veins and accentuated wrinkles. His grin is stone. With every movement of his joints there is a loud and painfully clear click of his bones. He stands at nearly eight feet tall-slim and naked as he walks to Copia. Prima stirs in her slumber-paralyzed in her fear as she opens her eyes.

“Mea est.” Mine. Within a matter of a single blink the devil is gone. Prima gasps and wakes-her eyes wide and glinting with fear. Copia runs to her side and comforts her.

“What’s happening?” Her body is in panic as she frantically looks all of the room until they meet Copias. 

“I felt him,” She breathes heavily, “he was holding me...I couldn’t-” Prima can’t speak. She shakes her head buries her face in her palms. Copia gently takes her hands in his to look at her forearms. Scratches-old and new alike-line her arms from her wrist to her elbow. Pink and white lines are fading but bright red and purple fresh ones criss cross over them. 

“My dear,” Copia whispers, “These devils that torture you amid your sleep-they harm you in a way I have never seen. What did he say?” Prima has yet to tell Copia of the translations she and Aether discovered days ago. The words rang in her mind each night as she pondered their meaning. 

“Her Majesty will rise as the bird takes flight,” she whispers as she scrambles in her mind to remember, “You’ll soon be hearing the chime.” Copia doesn’t understand-he wishes to ask another question but their is a light set of footsteps coming from the hall. He places a kiss on her lips and strokes her hair as he presses his forehead to hers. 

“Let my kiss be your comfort,” he tries to smile, “we will meet this evening and elope. And soon these dreams will haunt you no more.” He turns to leave but Prima quickly catches his hand in hers.

“Swear?” She asks quietly-her small tears now dry on her cheeks. Copia smiles traces an art ex over the grucifix on his left breast pocket.

“On Lucifer's tail itself, I promise.” His heart rests easy when she manages a soft smile as he leaves her room. Just as he turns and begins walking down the hall, a chambermaid turns the corner and is followed by a Ghoul-not Aether. They pass one another with a mere nod and continue on. He is near the corner-around which is the flight of stairs to the main floor but before he reaches it the is a quick yank on his sleeve.

“Pardon-” He is pulled from the hall into a dark space. Copia stumbles in the darkness before realizing Aether has pulled him into a closet. It reeks of dust.

“Aether-what’s the meaning of this?” Aether pulls the string hanging between them and a single lightbulb pops on-although it’s a dim and yellow light. 

“I have critical information about the,” Aether winks, “ya know, wedding, shenanigans. Her father and brother are arriving just as planned, they will be met in the garden just before eleven. The transportation of miss Prima is all in order as well but they confirmed that they are under the impression there is to be two passengers?” Copia has arranged for Aether to escort her-he couldn’t he’ll himself! He couldn’t bear the idea of her going so far on her own. 

“Yes,” Copia clears his throat, “You go with her. As much as I wish to trust the individuals I’ve contacted for the circumstances, I’d feel most at ease knowing she’ll be with someone who will take proper care of her.” Aether nods, understanding. A brief pause sits between them for a moment as they both digest the plans. But it is interrupted when Aether speaks;

“Are you certain you won’t go with her?” Copia shakes his head.

“The church needs a cardinal…” Copia begins thinking about what Prima said was in her dreams; ‘Her Majesty will rise as the bird takes flight’. A bird. A cardinal.“..I feel certain that Prima and I need this time apart to manifest all the things she’s been dreaming of-something tells me it will bring us together again. Don’t ask me why or how-I don’t know. So yes...I am certain I won’t go with her.”


	8. Chapter Eight

Emeritus sits quietly in his private library. The room is dark-heavy drapes sealed shut. The room is spotted with yellow from the dim illumination of a candle chandelier. In his hands he holds his precious miter that he is to wear when he marries Prima. Unlike the traditional Catholic Church, marriage is permitted for the unholy church’s anti-pope. The miter he holds is heavy, as it’s riddled with a thick embroidery and studded with diamonds. A black grucifix is straight center on the cap. He looks at the grandfather clock in the left side corner of the room and see that it is nearly eleven in the evening. In his head he thinks of Prima. Lately he’s been finding himself more engulfed in making an heir than getting closer to Prima. Sister Imperator suggested that he attempt to spend time with her before they married but he never made the time to do so. She is beautiful and he sees that she is intelligent but she is not the type Emeritus would usually indulge in-romantically. To him she seemed benign and oblivious-pathetic. But something about her also struck him as peculiar. Her young and bright eyes seem so alive as they glisten with life. The rosy cheeks and pink lips that decorate her pale skin against her blonde wavy hair is so idyllic and strange. The image of her in his mind is waved away when a single knock hits the door. Emeritus stands and steps to the door and opens it. 

“I have retired for the evening-” Emeritus tiredly grumbles but is interrupted by the ghouls cold and serious tone.

“Do excuse me, Papa, but it is urgent. I’m afraid something pernicious has happened. With your betrothed.” The ghoul had been out a few evenings prior and came upon the soon to be cardinal and Emeritus’ soon to be wife. 

“What happened?”

Meanwhile in the garden Prima sits quietly as her eyes dart around with caution as she eagerly anticipates what is to come. She is dressed in a white circle skirt gown embroidered with diamonds-threaded with white lace collar to the bottom hem. The day had gone by quickly but somehow time was wading slowly as she impatiently waits. The air is cool and still, the sky deep blue and speckled with stars that glow dimly. 

“Prima?” She turns to see a figure in the dark-it is tall with broad shoulders and sharp lines. He takes a step out from the shadows and looks at Prima with a faint smile. It feels like years had grown between them yet there was no sense of unfamiliarity as they smile. 

“Elias.” Prima doesn’t hesitate to wrap her arms around him and squeezes tight. Her brother holds her close for a moment before peeling away to look at his little sister. She’s nearly a head and a half shorter than him. 

“You’ve grown up,” he whispers and she smiles, “you're taller.” He wears all black, like a shadow with a pale face. His hair is thick and black-unkempt around his narrow face.

“As have you,” she hugs him again, “it has been so long since we’ve seen each other. Thank you for being here.” Behind Elias appears her father, Aether, and Copia following. Prima looks to her father who has wrinkles engraved all over his face and who stands high and slender in figure. His hair has greyed at the roots and is starting to thin. She hugs him too. He gently holds her to and kisses her head.

“Daughter,” he looks at her, “I’ve been tormented by terrible dreams of you. It is from the fear of nightmares that I do this for you.” Prima says nothing but nods her head as he steps aside and sets a leather case on the fountain ledge and unpack it. Copia steps to Prima and kisses her on the cheek. He looks her in the eye and says nothing. Neither does she. They merely look at one another with eyes of a visage mixed with fear but also longing and love. 

“Let us begin the ceremony.”

Back in Emeritus’ room, he stands glaring at the ghoul who stands directly across from him. The room is quiet aside from the occasional crack and pop of the fireplace. He has just been informed of the love affair between the Cardinal and his betrothed. He recollects on all the times he watched her give a secret smile or left dinner early or spent days in the library. And he grew angry. The ghoul fled the room as Emeritus flicks his hand at him to leave. He looks at the clock and watches as the seconds tick away and midnight draws closer. With a deep growl he storms out from his room and begins making his way down the hall-ripping portraits down from the walls and slamming hallway tables and vases down on the cobblestone floor. The sound of shattering porcelain flood the hall-outside thunder grumbles. He bursts through the door at the end of the hall and, like an instinct, flings himself at Copia. The room quakes around them-like they’re in a hollow box that is being tossed about-and claws at Copias face.

“You rotten fool! You betraying bastard!” Copia barely fights back and lets Emeritus topple him to the ground until the room is quiet and he stares glaring into his eyes. Copia furrows his brows and glares back. Before being able to speak, Emeritus spits at him.

“You fucked her in the garden and took her from me. You betrayed me! She was MINE.” Copia growls in response and pushes the angry man off of him and they both stand-out of breath.

“She was never yours.” Copia states only to receive a hard scratch across his face. His eyes begins to burn from the inside out-like a spoon is scraping it out. He stumbles back against the wall and holds his gloved hand over his eye. Emeritus steps towards Copia until he’s mere centimeters away.

“I’m letting you live, rat.” He spits at Copia, “Not because I want to-see, nothing would please me more than to hear you take your last breath-I’m letting you live because I’m going to find her. Wherever you've sent her-I’ll get her-and you’re going to watch me kill her.” 

Two Months Later

Copia sits in his private bathroom, on the wooden stool that rests in front of a mirror. The day outside is cold and cloudy-a gloomy morning. He stands shirtless as he studies his features. His eyes now hetero blue and green. A faint scar slowly fading beneath his eye and just below his brow. His hands rest at his side as he leans in and studies his now pale blue, nearly white, iris. Watching as his eye wells up just slightly, he sees the blue around his iris and thinks of his dear Prima. The blue vastness of her eyes is like a dream to him. It had been less than a few months and now she feels like some distant memory that he only has so long to remember. In his dreams her perfume haunts him like a ghost, he often wakes to the vivid sense of her but to no avail; he is alone. Mere glints is all he has of her. 

He closes his eyes and imagines as hard as he can that her hand is resting on his shoulder. That she is standing behind him with her smile and white sundress. He imagines that she is holding him.

Twelve Months Later

Sometimes it’s easier to think that they’re playing a harmless game. Or maybe he had seen her the night before and just hasn’t come across her yet. Maybe he’ll look down a certain hallway and see a glimpse of her skirt as she turns a corner. Maybe, on one of the evenings when he finds himself sitting alone on the balcony overlooking the garden, she’ll be waiting there for him. But she is never there, never real. Copia fills his days with work and more work to keep her in the back of his mind. He never wanted to forget but somehow her voice was fading and he could not recollect the sound of her laughter anymore. 

He had asked Aether to send word of their safe arrival to the enclave he’d sent them to but had received none. Copia was starting to think the worst. That she hasn’t made it and that she and Aethers bodies were drifting lifeless in the sea or even rotting in a ditch. 

Four Years Later

Copia kisses her neck and growls at her as she giggles. His gloved hands running down the back of her dress and aggressively pulling her closer to him. The maids long brown hair falls over his shoulder as he holds her. She reeks of something like vanilla and soap and feels unfamiliar against his face. 

Copia was a thriving cardinal in the church-the greatest the church has seen in years. Yet he is the most haunted. Prima passed through his mind daily but it was routine; he was used to missing her now and at some point decided that he was wrong. Or at least regretful that he didn’t leave with her. So he spends his days serving and doing his duties and spends evenings with different ghoulettes and chambermaids who couldn’t resist his tortured charm. 

“You know,” the maid pulls her skirt on and pulls her sleeves up over her shoulders, “Everyone whispers about you.”

“No matter,” Copia straightens his collar, his back to her as she nears the door, “I hear it all.”

“And what do you make of everything?” Copia doesn’t turn to look at her, he thinks for a brief moment as he slips on his leather gloves.

“Time will pass and you will all see. I betrayed Emeritus long ago for a reason.”


	9. Chapter Nine

“Aether,” Prima whispers, “where are we going?” The pair are sitting crammed in the cargo room of a steamship. Unbeknownst to Prima, heading up the coast to Monaco, France. Aether has a hood over his face and Prima is practically buried in a large, dark blue hooded cape. Her blond hair braided and resting over her left shoulder. Aether wears all black-his face hidden.

“We’re going somewhere safe. I’ll explain when we dock.” The room is dark and around them are large metal rectangles and wooden boxes strapped together and with straw poking out through their seams. Prima looks down at the tips of her grey boots that poke out from the skirt of her cape. They are kicked in mud and grass and what she can only assume as horse droppings by the smell of it. As soon as she caught her breath after escaping the church, Aether gave her traveling close and the two ran together and eventually rode horseback to the docks. 

“Oh Aether,” She feels woozy, “something has turned my stomach to rot, I think I might vomit.” She quivers as she clasps her stomach and cringes her face.

“Here,” he shuffles through his satchel and pulls out something wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. He unwrapped it and tears her off a chuck of white fluffy bread. 

“You’re just seasick, I’m sure,” he hands it to her and tears himself a piece, “you’ll be alright.” But she looks like she is drained and tired and ready to collapse. In her stomach it feels as though stones have been placed inside like her whole body is just a big pit. 

“Prima-” Aether grabs her hand as she lowers her head, “Please don’t cry, everything will fall into place. It’s alright.” He tries to comfort her but she continues to cry quietly-sure to not make any noise but the hot tears and wrench in her heart make it so hard. Unable to calm her, Aether removes his hood.

He is younger than Prima. By at least a year. His skin is clear and pale, his locks black and medium length. He has dark brown eyes and an unconventional but still attractive, larger nose. He is thin and his face narrow. Prima looks at him and is reminded of her brother. It’s the first time she’s seen Aether without a mask. He turns to face her completely and she sees that there is a scar running down the left side of his face-starting at his temple and running all the way down to his jawline. 

“I know how you must feel,” he sighs, “like it’s all going down from here but it’s really just up to time. I would change all of this if I could.” Prima can tell without asking that the story behind his scar is a painful one. Something happened to him that made him hurt really bad-not merely in a physical sense. Something happened to his heart...just like Prima. Prima says nothing but stops crying and sniffles.

“We’re going to a secret enclave that Cardinal Copia has secured for you. He asked me to take you there and to keep you safe. At least until the day when he can join you.” She does not respond. They sit quietly and listen to the hum of the engine. Prima finds her mind wandering to Copia. Feeling as though she had not taken a good enough look at him before they parted. And as her mind wandered further into Copia, she falls asleep.

Meanwhile, Aether puts his arm around his friend as she sleeps. He breaths in and the scent of her fills the room; like roses and peonies. Her shoulders rise and fall softly. In his heart he knows he loves her but in the way that she is the dearest friend he’s ever found. He loves her in the way that she is like a soulmate-not that he believed in that kind of stuff but it was his idea that, if any of that is real, that this is how it would feel. 

Prima wakes abruptly at the ship releases a loud his and shakes gently. She lifts her head to see that she was leaning on a sleeping Aether, whose hood is still down. Careful not to wake him, she stands and looks out the circular window and sees they’ve docked. It is early morning and the sun is shining through puffy clouds, the ocean glimmering green and blue.

After Aether wakes and their stuff is gathered, they get off the ship. Aether takes her hand and leads her somewhat quickly through a busy morning flea market. As they make their way, they receive strange looks from different eyes of people they pass as they walk down the street. The year is 1993 and their clothing is aged compared to modern fashion. But Aether doesn’t seemed to be bothered by it, so Prima dismisses the odd looks. They reach an alley behind a cafe that smells of fresh pastries and strong coffee. But then she is washed with a nauseas feeling and cringes. Aether instructs Prima to wait for him while he continues down the alleyway. 

“Excuse me, miss?” Prima turns to see a young woman and man, “Could you take our photo?” They have American accents and the woman has a small digital camera, holding it out to Prima. She hesitates before taking it and looks at the different buttons. She speaks and write fluent English as well as Swedish and has studied French but the symbols on the little camera make no sense. 

“It’s just the top button.” The man steps to her and places his finger over the button. Prima smiles and nods her head. The couple stand together beside a street sign with wide smiles on their faces. Prima smiles too but it falters as they pose with the man kissing her cheek. She takes the photo and tries to smile as she hands the camera back.

“Thank you so much!” The woman with red hair smiles and buries the camera in the tote bag that’s sling over her shoulder. 

“Of course,” Prima waves gently, “You’re welcome.” She turns to go back to the alley but watches as the couple make their way down the street; hand in hand. Prima feels an envy grow in her chest. 

“Hey,” Prima turns to see Aether on a rusted red moped, “let’s go.” She sits on the back and wraps her hands around Aether as he drives-how he knows to drive the machine is a mystery to her. She’s aware of technology but not exactly experienced with it all. 

“How long?” Prima asks over the buzz of the tiny moped.

“We’re driving time the train station in Avignon. We’ll be to France my early morning tomorrow.”


	10. Chapter Ten

“Aether,” Prima calls to him, “Who’s house is this?” It is early morning and the two of them are making their way up the lawn of an extravagant, Victorian manor made of grey stone and lined in overgrown vines. The sunrise is pale orange and just barely beginning to creep over the moss green horizon. Aether is a few steps ahead of Prima, with a grey tote bag slung over his shoulder. 

“I can’t say for sure,” Aether says quietly, “but I am under the impression that this is yours.”

“Ours, I think it’s ours.” She takes his hand in hers as they approach the gravel drive that is lined in tall decorative shrubs of red roses and chrysanthemums. The windows are grand and lined with intricate stone trim. The doors are nearly twelve feet high and opened at grand brass knobs. Aether digs in his pocket and holds his hand out to Prim. An aged silver skeleton key falls into the palm of her hand. A heavy click is heard as she turns the keyhole and pushes the door open. A luxurious double staircase is revealed, the floor pure marble with maroon and blue accent designs. The pale yellow walls of the parlor are lined in off white panel molding. Looking up, there is a coffered ceiling with a waterfall chandelier. Aether sets the bag down and closes the door behind them. Prima steps out of the parlor into the common room that is connected to a dining hall through white trimmed mahogany double doors. While Prima wanders the rooms, tracing the wall decor as she strolls through the kitchen, the bathroom (a few), the drawing room, family room, she comes across a studio room. She steps in to see that two walls are lined in mirrors. A balance bar lines both. The furthest wall is a grand window with pale grey drapes littered with specks of gold. There is a black box on the sill, a sheet red ribbon wound about it.

She walks to the window and gently pulls the ribbon undone and begins opening the box. A note is resting on a layer of brown tissue paper. 

“Dearest Prim,” her heart hiccups, “Never have I loved before I met you, sweet love.” She reads the note aloud to herself and traces down to the bottom of the paper.

“With love,” the letter closes, “Copia.” She removes the tissue paper and a pair of pointe shoes are resting delicately in the box. Pale red threaded roses are pinned in the center, lace embroidered floral designs line the stitch of the shoes. The ribbon is a pale foam pink. They sparkle in the light of the morning sun. They are the prettiest dance shoes Prima has ever seen. She traces the shoes gently but suddenly wretches and falls to her knees. The box falls from the ledge and the shoes spill out and land on the floor. She holds her stomach and squeezes her eyes shut. Overwhelmed with nausea she vomits on the ground. Her lips taste like rot and her eyes water. Pulling her hair from her face, she uses the sleeve of her coat to wipe her cheeks. 

“Oh my,” Without hesitation, he runs over to her and slides down to be by her side. He takes her hands and presses this hand to her forehead. She felt warm to him but not feverish. Her cheeks are flushed pale red and her eyes appear a little cloudy. 

“We’ve been on the road for a while,” He helps her to her feet, “you should lay down, rest. I will get everything in order and fix up something for you to eat.” 

The next month entailed making the enormous house into a home for them. The pair spent their days wandering the plethora of halls through the house and finding new corridors and staircases. Aether The season was in transition and the trees slowly turned crisp orange. Days grew cold and brisk, the sky always grey and moist. Days were spent dancing alone in front of a mirror-watching herself as she prances across the floor. The house slowly became less of a mysterious place as Prima and Aether nested and made it their home. Despite that she and Aether lived quietly and for the most part happily, Prima found herself growing glum. No word had come from Copia after two month and she couldn’t seem to focus on anything but him. So much so that she sometimes felt ill. In the mornings she’d rise with a dreadful headache and a stomach turned in knots. And in the evening she can hardly hold any food down. 

“Aether-” Prima and Aether stand side by side at the kitchen counter, “..what do you think has come of Copia?” Prima is rinsing peeled potatoes in a bowl of cool water that rests in the bottom of the brass sink. Aether, masked, chops carrots on a thick wooden cutting board. Something warm and savory smelling simmers in a skillet on the gas-lit stove, a pot boils with a hiss, and the oven radiates heat as a loaf of yeast fig and pistachio grain bakes. The rustic kitchen is lit by dim lights and the yellow light of early evening spillin in through the thick panes of glass in the bay window. 

“I’m sure all is well at the church,” Aether replies quietly as he spills a handful of chopped carrots into the pot of boiling water, “Don’t worry yourself over that, my friend. All we can do is wait for his word. Pass me the tarragon, please.” Aether has grown accustomed to her yearning to know of Copia’s well being. He goes to town once a week for groceries but has not contacted any of the Ghouls since he and Prima made their escape. 

“You must grow tired of my speaking of him so often. Sometimes I tire myself,” she whispers as she slips the tarragon beside his wrist, “I wonder if I should slice the potatoes or roll cut them...but he seems to just linger in my head. Sometimes I wish it would just quiet in my mind. I’ve been meaning to ask, I have been having terrible nausea and just feeling under the weather, I was thinking you might find something in town-” Aether abruptly stops chopping carrots and looks at Prima who looks up from the sink. Her cheeks are flushed red and she looks more lively as opposed to her ghost like appearance she took on after living at the church. 

“You’re feeling sick?”


End file.
